OPEN.

[selfimage]

CHARACTERS: Loki & open!
DATE: January catch-all, including the party.
WARNINGS: There's some dirty implications and a naked Loki, so tread carefully.
SUMMARY: Celebration, pranks, fireworks, devious planning, milkshakes, drama, fuzzy handcuffs and casual invasions of privacy. The usual.

Loki doesn't have a routine. In fact, he does his best to defy all possibility of routine. There are days that he sleeps late, other days that he doesn't sleep at all, mingling in the library as if somehow the deepest hour will reveal hidden texts to him. There are midnight snacks in the kitchen, mischief to be had for those lucky few who come across him in his more disobedient moods, and diving into the recesses of the photo app recently added to the jewelcomm.

The new year came like the one before it, the celebration welcome as Loki stretched himself in what felt like a new beginning. Everything had changed, but in name only. Lucky that's where it counted. A few years ago he had a party for the Young Avengers, an attempt at an apology for exploiting their trust after pulling the strings that lead to a very sore confession. If he had stayed, they would most likely trust him again, even now. He hadn't stayed; he had left in favor of a new start.

"Happy New Year, Loki," he says with a hint of a smile, a mutter into his glass beneath the loud shrieks and pops of fireworks.

NOTE | hey it's an open log, feel free to toss in a prompt. if you need a prompt, send me a PM or shoot me a msg on hadal!

Comments

DAENERYS.

[selfimage]

[ Loki's quarters are as neat as they are disorderly.

over a year of being part of ALASTAIR has left him with a unique collection of oddities plus whatever else he could manage to get his hands on through what he considered a five finger discount. there are books of all varieties stacked in precarious piles, from tomes found in the library to paperbacks with frayed edges and salacious paintings of ripped bodices on the covers. some are marked with colorful pieces of paper or scratch, whatever he could find to keep his place. it's hard to tell just how much thought he put into each tower, as they all have different heights from different surfaces.

from here he doesn't seem to cautious, but an trained eye will be able to find the little runes written in charcoal pencil scattered here and there to keep certain fingers from touching his stuff. the bed is made, though difficult to tell when it's been last used. there's folds in the blanket from where he was reading atop the comforter, pulled neatly into a Loki-shape.

there are other things, too: two open bottles of wine and the bottle of mead, Loki's jacket flung haphazardly over the backs of one of the chairs, a CD player and accompanying CD, papers with notes in two sets of handwriting with a distinct set of loops and dotted is, and various other treasures both piled on and peeking out from an open dresser against the wall.

for the time, Loki seems to have occupied himself with the shower. a stunning rendition of Queen's Don't Stop Me Now carrying with the steam. ]

AHAD.

[selfimage]

[ while they couldn't be called routines (much to Loki's pleasure), Ahad and Loki had their own business to go about. true to their divine nature, the time of day played little in where they were when. despite that, when Loki doesn't see Ahad for a day or two, he knows what's happened: he's being deliberately avoided.

the hunch hits him when they never seem to catch each other in passing, and he knows enough of Ahad's nature to know that it's no mistake. when he had scrawled the name over the Dagny's request for blind dates, it had been half a practical joke and half a statement, and now the consequences came with it.

he thought of seeking him out, of crafting some sort of apology, but the essence of it escapes him. it had been what Ahad had wanted, hadn't it? tying yourself to another, but with all freedom. the constriction that came with affection seemed contrary to the idea of freedom.

yet casting away everything seemed lonely.

there were Lokis that had walked down that road before, and none of them were better for it. with a sigh he sinks in the chair in their room, placing an open book over his face as if it offered some solace. ]

[digiorno]

[The library intrigues him. There's a lot to explore here, but aside from the fact that this library itself functions as a convergence of timelines, Giorno has always been someone who loved libraries. They were an escape when he was younger, a place to burn time before going back to a home he didn't feel he belonged in; it was more or less by accident that he discovered the truths libraries could hold, in the blurry few days after flowers began spilling from his nervous palms, unbidden.]

[Some nights, he can't sleep. Every night, he's in bed in his own room by midnight, because he won't leave Fugo alone in the darkest hours whether they manage to actually sleep or not--but the hours between ten and twelve find him in the library often enough. Tonight he's poring through histories: unheard-of dynasties conquered, and how they fell. Occasionally he smirks, even laughs under his breath, at the text, as if it's a book of jokes rather than dry history (although sometimes they're the same thing, in his opinion).]

[Around eleven thirty, he reaches into his bag and pulls out . . . a chocolate pudding cup. And a spoon. Thoughtfully, and without looking, as though this is habit. Which it is.]

ASHER.

[selfimage]

[ where had he gotten this watch, you ask? well, let it be said that there are some things that Loki just can't resist, and one of those things is nosing around where he doesn't belong.

when he found the door open just a crack, he took it as an opportunity, sliping inside like a snake, while simultaneously discarding any and all consequences that may have come his way. there's too much arrogance in him to believe he 1) would be caught and 2) even if by some fleeting chance, he was, he'd be able to talk his way out of it.

when he found the room empty and ripe for the taking, he began to rummage around without concern. it's the clothing first, any shirts or jackets lying around. there's no pocket that was left unturned in his presence. while he's at it, he took a look at the state of the bed, the bathroom, and slowing began to piece together just whose room he may be imposing himself on, leaving promptly after.

it's always good to know your team members, isn't it?

and to get a good souvenir, while he was at it. he's admiring his new watch in the kitchen, sipping from a soda bottle, painted with a little smug look of satisfaction as the light catches the face, causing little pockets of light to dance across the walls. ]